


Feels Like Home

by starfishstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:39:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishstar/pseuds/starfishstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitting together on her dilapidated sofa over a cup of cocoa seemed like such a cosy, homey sort of thing to do. And Harry, to Hermione, always felt like home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> …And we’re back to my usual mode. As in, here, have a character-driven one-shot in which two people talk and reflect about things! :-)
> 
> Inspired by conversations with [stereolightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phalaenopsis/pseuds/stereolightning) about Hermione as a character, and about potential Hermione-and-Harry interactions. This is written to stand alone, but also draws on some of my headcanon established in “[Chambers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/632151/chapters/1143552)” (takes place about a year before this story) and “[Saying Yes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/821297/chapters/1556418)” (takes place a number of years after).

 

“Hi!” said Harry, when Hermione swung open her front door to reveal him standing there with a characteristic grin on his face.

Harry really looked _happy_ these days, Hermione thought. He seemed settled in himself in a way he’d never quite been when they were kids.

When they were kids – right, what was that, a year ago? Hermione snorted at herself for that line of thought. Only someone not yet far removed from childhood could think so definitively that the days of childhood were over.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back to let him into the narrow entryway of her tiny flat. “Want a cup of cocoa? I was just thinking of making some.”

Harry smiled. She knew what he was thinking – good old straight-laced Hermione, even though we’re all out of school now she’d never even think of keeping beer or something around.

It wasn’t that, though. It was more that sitting together on her dilapidated sofa over a cup of cocoa seemed like such a cosy, homey sort of thing to do. And Harry, to Hermione, always felt like home.

“Sure, yeah,” Harry said, his mouth quirking a little, presumably at the idea that he was indulging her in her idiosyncrasies. He followed Hermione into the kitchen and leaned against the worktop as she got out cocoa and sugar and warmed the milk with her wand.

“How are things in the department?” she asked. It wasn’t as if she didn’t get all the news from Ron anyway, but she liked hearing about Harry’s life from Harry.

“Good,” he said. “I was starting to think I’d never be able to say this, but it really, finally feels like things are just _normal_ , you know? Like we struggled all the first year to get the other Aurors to take us seriously, after we were fast-tracked in like that, but now it’s been a year and a bit, and we’re all just – Aurors. And it’s normal.”

“Harry, I’m so glad,” she said, doling out just a spoonful of sugar for each of them. “I know how frustrating it’s been. But I think you did exactly right, just sticking it out for as long as it took until it got better.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Hermione. Hey, and how about _you,_ then? Big shot in the Wizengamot Administration Services already.”

“Oh, not really,” Hermione said, handing Harry his cup. “My position is quite minor.”

“Yeah, but with the potential to rise through the ranks very quickly, for someone who’s got the drive. Which you do.”

Hermione ducked her head. It was true – she had a lot of plans. Rights for all Beasts and Beings, that was first.

“We’ll see,” was all she said.

She led Harry through to the – well, given that the “kitchen” was actually more of a kitchen nook, and the “living room” was part of the same space (and technically the “bedroom” was something that folded down from the wall when it was time to go to sleep) – she couldn’t exactly take him into the living room. But she led him over to the living room part of the room, at least.

Hermione loved her flat, modest though it was. She’d been very clear on that, when she’d finished Hogwarts in the spring, one year late thanks to the rather pressing business that had arisen in what should have been their seventh year. She loved Ron and she loved spending time with him, but she was determined to get her own flat to start with, however tiny that meant it had to be. She’d never before had a place of her own.

And it wasn’t like Ron wasn’t here more nights of the week than he spent at his own flat with George above the shop, anyway. But it didn’t hurt, either, to allow Mrs Weasley her happy small delusions on that point.

“Cheers,” Harry said, raising his mug of cocoa.

“Cheers,” Hermione said, raising her mug to him, too.

This was a habit they’d developed, soon after Hermione had finished Hogwarts a couple months back and was finally in London with Ron and Harry.

Harry and Ron saw each other all the time at work, and Hermione saw Ron all the time too, of course, and it wasn’t like they didn’t still spend time together all three of them, or all four when Ginny was visiting back from Wales. But Hermione had started to notice that she never really got a chance to talk just to Harry, and that she missed him.

So she’d started making a point of inviting him over for cocoa or something every couple weeks. It had become a nice tradition that both of them liked, even if Harry did laugh about it a little.

“How’s Ginny?” Hermione asked. It was still funny to her that Harry now saw Ginny more often than Hermione herself did, after she and Ginny had shared a dormitory at Hogwarts all the last year. But it was right, too, that it should be that way. Those two had been waiting a long time to finally be able to have each other’s time. 

“Oh, Ginny’s doing great.” Hermione loved how Harry still lit up every time he had occasion to say his girlfriend’s name. “I saw her last weekend – she said to tell you she was sorry she didn’t have time to meet up, but she basically dashed in on Saturday morning and had to leave again that night.” 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Hermione said. “I can see her next time. But is it true, they’re really putting her in the starting seven for the next match?”

“Yeah, sounds like it.” Harry beamed like he’d invented the idea, and Hermione smiled into her cup.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” she mused. “Did you ever imagine, a year ago – Well, not a year ago, that was September already, but did you ever imagine, oh, a year and a half ago, that we’d be sitting here talking about our jobs, and Ginny’s Quidditch, and all these normal kinds of things?”

Harry’s expression sobered, as they both remembered the long, bleak slog that had been spring the year before, when it had all seemed hopeless, and yet there had been no option of giving up.

“No, I really didn’t,” Harry said. “It was so hard to think past that one, great task, you know? I never let myself think too much about having a career, or – being with Ginny again. It was just, carry on, do it or die trying.”

“And you did it,” Hermione said, that familiar, warm pride in Harry swelling in her chest. Against all impossible odds, he’d done it.

“ _We_ did it,” Harry objected. “You know very well I would never have made it through without you.” He was looking at her intently, and Hermione blushed. “Seriously, Hermione, you do know that, don’t you? That I would absolutely never have made it through all that on my own?”

“You would have found a way,” Hermione said, surprised at his insistent tone.

“Maybe so,” Harry said. “But the fact is that you were there, and you made the difference. Who came up with an ingenious way to bring along everything we needed inside one tiny handbag? Who knew all the defensive spells to keep us safe wherever we camped? Who always had a brilliant idea or a clever spell ready no matter what crazy stuff happened to us?”

“Oh, stop it,” Hermione moaned. She could feel her cheeks flaming.

“It’s only the truth,” Harry said.

Impulsively, Hermione set her cocoa down on the floor out of harm’s way, and leaned over and gave Harry a hug. “You’re all right, Harry, you know that?” she laughed into his unruly hair. “You’re a good friend.”

Harry patted her shoulder like he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. “You too, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled and released him. She picked up her cup again, while Harry sipped at his own drink, clearly working to regain his poise after being forcibly submitted to physical affection. _Boys!_ Hermione tsked inside her head. Well, she loved him anyway, this sometimes clueless but always loyal almost-brother of hers.

“Anyway,” Hermione said. “I want to hear all about that Portkey counterfeiter you arrested last week. The whole thing, not the version that was in the paper.”

Harry grinned. “Oh, now _that’s_ a good story,” he said, and Hermione settled in to listen to Harry tell her about doing the things he loved best.


End file.
